


Is this... Yours?

by deathkiss_mp4



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997)
Genre: M/M, Work In Progress, artist cloud strife, cloud and genesis would definitely bond over the arts, does this count as an artist au? now it does, fuck midterms, mentions of stress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:13:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27294733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathkiss_mp4/pseuds/deathkiss_mp4
Summary: But honestly, It’s not like he wanted anyone to find his work when it slipped out of his bag.
Relationships: Genesis Rhapsodos & Cloud Strife, Genesis Rhapsodos/Cloud Strife
Comments: 3
Kudos: 75





	Is this... Yours?

The weather is harsh and the people are few up in Nibelheim. There was a lot of time to kill when Cloud was young and lived in that backwater town. Schoolwork was pretty easy, and even though most of the other kids were awfully rude to him, Cloud found himself looking for ways to cure his boredom. Sure, fighting bullies was a brief reprieve, but it always left him bruised and annoyed the following day. Plus, it worried his Ma. He decided the fist fights weren’t worth it, but the boredom still lingered. At one point, he did chores for fun. His casual whining drove Claudia crazy. So, on his eighth birthday, she gifted him a drawing pad with a nice set of professional pencils. She hoped a quiet hobby could take root in Cloud. It was a bit expensive, but the light in Cloud’s eyes as he unwrapped the set told her she did something right.

Cloud, despite his excitement, was shitty at first. No, he was no prodigy, and he didn’t take naturally to the pencil and paper. That didn’t matter to him, though. He had plenty of time on his hands after all. So he drew. And drew. And drew. 

Eventually, his messy sketches morphed into more realistic drawings. His fingers, once soft and supple, became lithe and graceful. They danced on every page he touched. Piles of drawing littered his bedroom, and every finished sketch pad was labeled with the beginning and end date.

Cloud knew it was a skill. Honestly. He knew that not many other people had the ability to capture life as he could in his notebooks. But he didn’t really draw in front of others, and often opted to use the pencils as stress relief and kept his works private. It never came up in conversation, either, and he didn’t want to come across as if he was bragging, so he never brought it up.

-

His hobby carried on. Life is a long road, though, and Cloud’s determination to enter into SOLDIER stuck with him. War propaganda succeeded in being a stick out point in his childhood memories. The general, someone so captivating and enthralling to young Cloud, just fueled the fire. 

Claudia wanted to yell at him and demand he not go, but she knew better. While he could be shy at times, her StormCloud gave everything he did 100%. Something told her he would be okay. After all, Cloud was his own person and most she could do was give him the advice he needed to hear. She let him go.

-

ShinRa was daunting. An oppressive aura leaked off of every staff member he encountered, and the ginormous building located in Midgar was so unlike Nibelheim it frightened Cloud. Drawing helped him relax, though, and he found himself picking up that pencil and pad anytime he had a moment to himself.

-

Cloud doesn’t have a lot of free time. Training as a cadet for the SOLDIER program does that. Even so, every Thursday evening his schedule grants him two whole hours of time to do whatever he wants. Free time is a rarity, all cadets know it, and they cherish the limited amount of liberty they get under ShinRa.

The last month had been utter hell for the cadet—it was the dreaded midterm month. ShinRa gave out midterms on various topics including materia analysis, the history of the planet, battle tactics, and the workings of mako alongside the human body. Naturally, everyone had been losing their minds and crunching all the info they could, preparing themselves for the tests. Nobody wanted to drop out of the program because they flunked a midterm. Cloud’s other classes centered on conditioning the body, so physically he felt pushed to the limit. It was no secret he was smaller and thinner than some of the other guys—even out of Nibelheim, bullies seemed to flock him—but he figured he could at least beat them in speed. 

These two hours, these two precious hours he gets to spend all to himself today are a godsend for Cloud. He silently sends his prayers and thanks to the Nibel Gods for the break. Really, his body and mind need it. 

As long as he is above the plate, Cloud can theoretically do whatever he wants with his allotted time. Cadets are given ShinRa IDs, albeit shitty ones that only have access to a few areas, and he was going to use it to his advantage. Life within the city was interesting. He rarely drew any sort of advanced setting and he could feel the excitement in his blood begin to build up.

-

When Cloud walks these unfamiliar streets, his gut churns with a nervous pleasure. The area is so lively—he wants to look everywhere at once and detail every mark that catches his eye. Choosing just one place to sit can be downright painful. It’s a nice day, though, and Cloud sits by the large, gated fountain spewing water from ceramic fish. Kinda tacky, he muses, but it screams informality in a way nothing at ShinRa does. Everything there is strict. 

Cloud clicks his tongue at his thoughts, and opens his smaller sketch pad—the one he keeps for easy carry in case inspiration strikes—and begins to draw. On one page, a young girl in pigtails drags her mother and father away from their seats. In the next she is tossing coins in the fountain with a smile on her face as both parents grin in the background. He draws the ShinRa security guard currently standing at the edge of the plaza and notes how the man seems so tall from his current point of view, but moves on to a young couple’s interlocked hands. The last drawing is a portrait. 

(Normally, Cloud doesn’t fill his books with portraits. He likes them well enough, and is proficient enough at them, but something about their formation feels… too personal.)

Even with his eyes covered by sunglasses and body cloaked in a long jacket, Cloud can tell the man is gorgeous. Maybe he’s a celebrity or model going undercover, Clouds thinks, but quickly dismisses his own thought. Meeting famous people is pure luck. Talented he may be, but luck is something the Strifes are not blessed with—and Cloud is no exception. 

Cloud draws the mysterious man’s portrait, enthralled by the way his left hand’s fingers flip the pages of the book grasped in his right. The sight is so pretty and he’s weak for nice aesthetics. Sometimes the man’s jaw will clench tight, and his lip will turn down into a slight frown that has Cloud wondering what exactly he is reading. The title is weathered and from this distance Cloud can’t make out what the fuzzy letters are meant to spell. He leaves the book blank on his page, but plans to get up and purchase a drink from the vending machine so he can sit closer. This portrait is shaping up to almost be a challenge in his mind. Cloud really wants to get everything right. 

Suddenly, a buzz shoots up Cloud’s side and tears his mind away from the man. The drawing is technically finished but he knows he could spend hours more on it, changing and erasing until it looks perfect. He fumbles with his buzzing phone, and sees the time as he rushes to unlock it. 

Fuck, he thinks. I’m so screwed…

It’s his own fault that he let time fly by. Still, he feels a surge of disappointment in himself. Why didn’t he set an alarm or something to alert him of the time? Ugh... 

Cloud has seven minutes to be in his dorm. Seven minutes until the commanding officers of each bunker begin their daily patrol of counting the cadets. He has seven minutes, and he isn’t even near the intricately guarded building. He shoves everything into his bag, grabs whatever else his fingers clasp onto, and sprints.

But honestly, It’s not like he wanted anyone to find his work when it slipped out of his bag.

**Author's Note:**

> I had an idea. And so I ran with it... haha, i have no idea how long this is gonna be but i just love cloud and genesis interactions so much.
> 
> not beta read. tumblr is deathkiss-mp4 if u wanna chat about final fantasy/ask questions :D


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